Doodles of the Doctor
by GraceSong
Summary: Nothing much ever happens in the hamlet of Whitespring. So naturally, 17 year old Esther Camblin can't wait to leave. However she wasn't planning on doing it against her choice by means of a madman and his box. Against her will she is thrown into the Doctor's world, all because of a stupid notebook that she knows nothing about. Perhaps Whitespring isn't so bad after all.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone. You probably weren't expecting this, seeing as I have dismissed this story for nearly three years due to its diabolical plot and just general lack of writing skill. But, as of last night while pondering the problems of a badly sprained ankle, a new overhaul for this fanfic hit me in the face and wouldn't leave me alone. So here I am. The old chapters will soon be disappearing as I change the OC, the major and minor plots and all the plot holes. I have kept it as the same original story because the idea is similiar, though the blurb and title will also change. I am not sure if that is the normal thing to do but I'm doing it so no one can stop me muhahaha! **

**I have no idea whether this will be at all well received, but I figured I have time to kill for the next six weeks, my mobility is limited and I have plenty of ideas so I may as well give it a shot. Most of the old reviewers will probably be long gone and will definitive have lost interest, but if you are still there, hi. Anyone new, well welcome along for the ride. I cannot guarantee anything even half decent but heck I have nothing else to loose. Reviews very much appreciated to see if this is going anywhere from your perspective. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of the stuff affiliated with it, but my characters and separate plots are mine, so hands off. **

**So, here goes nothing. Enjoy!**

The lights of the city lingered on the tree ridden horizon, seemingly cautious of entering the tranquillity of the small hamlet. Groups of houses huddled together against the autumnal chill dancing along the breeze. Dim street lamps lit the streets, half-heartedly standing guard against the shadows of the night. In a enclosed cull-de-sac on the outskirts of the main drag of lingering lights and late night passing traffic, an upstairs light flickers into life in an otherwise sleeping home. A solitary silhouette blinks into view against a backdrop of dim light. The silhouette stops, stands straight, before crouching over a darkened object, hands dancing rapidly over it in search of a missing object.

In the room, hands traced across the originally smooth but now worn and scratched surface of the desk, blindly searching for a recognisable shape. After a few minutes of this haphazard searching technique, with nothing to show for it, feet shuffled towards a shelf on the opposite side of the wall. A few steps were managed before a problem was found, namely a heavy cast up to the knee on one leg. The silhouette faltered, brushed a few strands of hair from her face, and then sighed in annoyance.

Going back to the desk, hands once again shuffled along the desktop. In their now more hurried state, bottles and books were scattered on the desk and the floor around it as the hands rooted through organisers till eventually they grasped a small notebook between them. Pages were turned till fresh, unused paper surfaced from the mass of scribbled pages previous to it. Placing the book on the desk after carelessly sweeping everything else in the surrounding area off the desk, a chair was pulled up, sat in and then scooted forwards till the silhouette was close enough to the desk that he cast foot wasn't uncomfortably positioned. Then, one hand went to the silhouette's own neck as a pen was snagged out from under her pyjama top from round a metal chain. The cap was clicked off and then switched between hands as the right palm kept the notebook straight while the left touched ink to paper. In the gloom of early morning, the teenage silhouette closed her eyes and let the pen to the talking to the blank surfaces of the page.


	2. Chapter 2

**Because I am an overexcited publisher there are no reviewers to thank, so I will just keep going with this regardless. **

**Disclaimer: Still not mine apart from the bits that are. **

**Enjoy.**

"Hold on tight. This could get bumpy!"

"You don't say!"

The Doctor looked across from his rather unflattering position clinging to the railings of the console room, to see his fiery haired companion, Amelia Pond, staring at him in mock anger, mirroring his position from across the room. The Doctor was not fazed. However much Amy complained of hating the movement of his wonderful TARDIS, the spark of humour and excitement in her green-brown eyes gave her true thoughts away. Rory on the other hand, was no actor. His emotion was displayed clearly, with his somewhat spindly form being flung across the main platform of the console room every time the TARDIS hit a bump in the time vortex. Whenever Rory had the opportunity pause for breath, another jolt would move him without- his consent he may add- to a different position, most often on the console room floor, which he was getting far too familiar with for his liking. Realising only a few days before that is possible to get Space Sick, Rory shut his eyes and waited for it all to be over.

With a cry of Geronimo which was interrupted by a number of wheezes and gasps, settled the end of the 'turbulence' as the Doctor called it, as a red and white leaver was pulled by a sweating and shaking hand. The TARDIS was silent for a few minutes, apart from the gasping of both the Doctor and Amy, and the groans from a now pale green Rory. After the few discretionary minutes of calm had come to a rather awkward end, the Doctor now back to his usual undamaged self, jumped to his feet and started fiddling with the scanner. Amy crossed the room on unsteady legs to tap Rory on the shoulder, the now commonly used signal that he could uncurl himself from the foetal position, and could either stagger to the nearest bathroom, or look crossly at the Doctor for few seconds before staggering to the nearest bathroom. For Rory, neither was a particularly pleasant option, but as staring accusingly at the Doctor used energy that at the time he just didn't have, he decides to go for the first option and quickly left the room on shaking legs.

Amy sighed as she looked forlornly at the back of her departing husband, before turning on her heels and looking over the Doctor's shoulder at the scanner the Doctor had coaxed into life.

"So, where are we then? Somewhere dangerous I presume. It always is with you after all. What have you got for me this time then raggedy man?"

The doctor smiled slightly, as he always did when he heard the oh so familiar lilt of Amy's Scottish accent. Turning around, he swapped his look of happiness to that of confusion, as he processed the result that had just shown up on the rather disgruntled scanner. Looking back to Amy who had now been joined by a slightly queasy looking Rory, he explained as he blew air out of his cheeks in a bemused manor.

"We, Ponds, are on a roof. Early 21st century I'd say, your time actually, and if I am right, then there is not an alien in sight. Not quite sure why the TARDIS landed us here at the moment, but what do you say we take a look and find out for ourselves?"

Rory looked confused while Amy just looked exited, the spark of adventure kindling in her eyes. The Doctor went as if to open the doors, but Rory who had moved out of his confused trance like state, stopped him with a typical Rory question, as the Doctor would have put it.

"Wait. Doctor you said a roof. Isn't that kind of dangerous? I mean, how come we aren't falling by now?"

He Doctor sighed and turned back to the door.

"Flat roof Rory. Flat roof. Now, who wants an adventure?"

Rory rolled his eyes at the Doctor's departing back, and was about to share a look with his wife, when he realised that she too was moving towards the doors. Muttering to himself something about only asking logical questions, Rory followed the duo out into the chilly autumnal night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here again, yet more mediocre writing. Enjoy at will.**

**Disclaimer: If Doctor who was mine you'd get a tonne of episodes at once and then nothing for two years. As the plots for this fanfiction are mine, there is no guarantee this will not happen.**

The site that met Rory's eyes as he somewhat unwillingly left the comforting glow of the TARDIS console room would be seen as strange to any prying eye looking on through the heavily advancing hail storm. To Rory however, this was becoming the norm. The Doctor was leaning against the lightly frost covered glass of an upstairs window, hand pressed against the glass as he tried and failed to see inside. Amy mirrored his position further along the window, although when she saw that her husband had joined them on the roof, she stopped what she was doing and went to stand beside him. The trio was silent for a few minutes, while the Doctor felt the glass and grumbled slightly under his breath.

"Right well, I can't get in."

Rory and Amy looked up from staring blatantly at nothing in particular, and rolled their eyes at the Doctor simultaneously. The Doctor looks confused for a few seconds, and gestures at the pair to continue with what they are getting at.

"Hello? Sonic Screwdriver. When has a locked door ever stopped you?" Amy tutted and did a very good impression of a school teacher trying to be nice about the fact that her student was a complete buffoon. The Doctor contemplated the idea, before reaching for his jacket pocket.

"Whoa, whoa. You can't just break into someone's house! "Rory exclaimed. He is silenced in his protests by Amy starring blatantly at him, and the now familiar noise of the Sonic Screwdriver whirring into life. Muttering under his breath about injustice and privacy, Rory was guided by Amy away from the now concentrating Doctor. Shivering slightly against the cold, Rory put his arm around Amy's shoulder and waited. The pair stayed content for a number of minutes, before Amy, who had by that point rested her head on Rory's shoulder, decided to address the situation they were in.

"I wonder why we are here. I mean, the Doctor said that there was no alien technology for miles around, which," she gestured to the sleeping village around her," I could believe. So why are we still here, freezing cold and getting battered by the wind and the rain? So that the Doctor can go house hunting? I don't think so. Something's up. Something he's not telling us. He must have some reason for being here. He always has a reason. What do you think?"

Rory who had for the last two minutes nodded and made a few noises of agreement, but was actually thinking about the fact that he was beginning to lose circulation in his feet, was about to start his sentence with the customary "umm…" but was saved of a sort by the doctor exclaiming a rather load retort of "Bingo!" . Looking up from where she had been examining her now blue fingers, Amy was glad to see that the window had been prised open, and that a rather exited Doctor was already half inside. Grabbing Rory who was still trying to think of something to say, Amy followed the doctor in his actions of scrambling inside. By the time Rory had hauled himself into through the window, the Doctor and Amy were already half way through ransacking the bedroom.


End file.
